Why Downsizing is Different

My 80+ year old parents still live in my childhood home. They have accumulated items from 40 years of family life, minus a few furniture purges, wholesale transfers of bedrooms to each child, and a reasonable amount of donations to the local women’s shelter thrift store. 

In contrast, I lived in five states and three countries in the first 10 years of my adult life. That came with a lot of clearing out of things not worthy of the effort it would take to bring them along. 

Now I’ve lived in my current home for over 20 years. Raised a family.  We are surrounded by gifts from friends and family, things we’ve purchased and love to see and use, and memories of the kids at various stages around every corner.  

All three of these scenarios can describe why downsizing can be so hard.

For moves other than downsizing, we typically gain more space. Moving usually still means getting rid of ‘stuff,’ but those items are usually left because they are not worth moving. 

And then comes Downsizing (capital D). For the first time, we have to not only curate each piece of furniture, clothing, kitchenware, etc., for value as in other moves, but also reduce what we’re taking to a fraction of what we’ve collected.  That table we love?  It may need to be rehomed because it’s just too big for the new kitchen. The collection of…something?  There’s just too much of it.  So this move means we’re getting rid of at least one thing we don’t want to part with. Likely a lot more than one thing.

Not because it’s not good enough to keep using. 

Not because it’s cheaper to buy a replacement than ship the original. 

Not because there aren’t sentimental reasons to keep it.

The downsizer is forced to get rid of things that are still valuable, whether pragmatically or emotionally. Whether it’s a family heirloom that no one in the family wants (but loves that you've kept it) or the new couch you finally splurged on in December that’s the wrong size for the new place, tough decisions are ahead.  

Downsizing is about slimming down the things we’ve gathered around ourselves for comfort or pleasure.  These can be anything from collections we have built for 30 years, or inexpensive but specialized kitchenware used to prepare dinner six months ago.  It means throwing away tools we used just yesterday, but no one wants second-hand today.  Add to that, Baby Boomers and Gen Xers either grew up during hard times or were raised by someone of that era. It often feels wrong to get rid of so much stuff. 

All of this is why Downsizing isn’t just “another move.”  It feels different because it is different—normal moving is hard; downsizing is harder and more complex. 

Strategic keys to success?

• Start early.  My husband and I, in our 50s, need to start paring down NOW. And stop buying random stuff because we can. The irony is, now that we can afford to splurge buy after years of working, we shouldn't because it just means more stuff. I don’t want my kids or someone else having to get rid of my backpacking gear in 30 years, knowing it hasn’t been used since 2020. If I’m done backpacking (maybe, ask me next year)—there’s a scout or young adult out there today that will love this (still newish) equipment. If we wait 30 years, then it’ll just be old and only good for the trash.

• Start taking pictures.  I used to keep all sorts of things as souvenirs. I’m pledging to declutter by taking more photos, whether that’s of the ticket when I saw my daughter perform or the natural wonder that has a gift shop. Time to start buying fewer t-shirts (and the like).

• Purge.  If I buy a new zester, throw away the two old ones (true story). If I need a new one because the last zester is dull and the even older one was bought second hand and already partially dull when I got it, there’s no reason to keep any previous models. I won’t use them anyway. Even I won’t wake up in the middle of the night worried about running out of zesters.

• Declutter.  Paint-your-own pottery dragon?  That goes in a box for whichever child created it to keep or toss (if they don't want it). I took a picture that I’ll cherish forever (see what I did there?). Bonus: I’m not dusting it/feeling like it needs dusting ever again.  

And what if downsizing is looming closer to “now” than later?

• Start with the least sentimental items. Start with a kitchen junk drawer.  It’s good practice to throw out the 80 semi-tangled twist ties you’ve kept for 10 years. It’ll also make you more impatient and less sentimental when you finally get to things you care about. 

• Find those things that are “must keeps,” whether it’s furniture that will fit best in your new home or something less practical that will make the new place “home” (as long as it will have a place in the new place) and mark them as “keep.” Everything else is up for discussion.

• Ask family and friends to help. Not only is moral support great, but maybe you can pawn off give them some of the belongings you're willing to part with. Just be careful their sentimentality doesn't make you feel guilty about discarding (unless they pledge to take anything they get misty-eyed about automatically).

• Call a professional to help!  Having a third party who is empathetic but not emotionally involved can make the work go by more smoothly. 

• Recognize the new home is for you, not for your stuff. If you have to be uncomfortable because the table’s too big, then it’s not doing what furniture should do—making your life easier. 

It’s a gift to have lived a life that was so full and long that the next stage requires curation of your favorite things.  I see that now, and you can be confident I am putting these practices into motion alongside you.  Abet a bit slower.

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